


For Dear Life

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Series: Dad!Jason AU [21]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6503707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And Damian would pout. Scribble angrily across his pages. Because Damian didn’t <i>want</i> Timmy to be alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Dear Life

**Author's Note:**

> After Chicken Soup and Rememberance&Recovery. Damian’s five, and far too caring. I never actually read the storyline of Tim’s dad dying, so. Excuse any potential flaw in the details.

Damian was surprised, when the teacher called his name for pickup. When they walked outside, and he found it was Didi waiting for him, leaning against the passenger door of their car, not Baba.

His heart tightened in fear, even as he ran forward, and into Dick’s arms.

“Baba had to work a little late today.” Dick answered to the unasked question, even as he lifted Damian up, and peppered Damian’s cheeks with long kisses. “He’ll be home by the time we get there too, okay?”

Damian nodded, clutched at Dick’s collar and buried his face in Dick’s neck anyway.

Because something was wrong. He could feel it.

“But we have to make a stop first, alright?” Dick whispered, even as he waved goodbye to the teacher. “We have to go run by Bruce’s house, is that okay?”

Damian leaned back, stared fearfully up into Dick’s eyes. “Is Boose okay?”

When Didi smiled, it was sad. “Yeah, he’s okay. Everyone’s…” A deep inhale as Dick lowered him back to the ground. “Everyone’s okay.”

Damian knew that was a lie.

He didn’t say anything though, as Dick opened the car and waited for him to scramble inside. Just watched, as Didi strapped him into his car seat, then moved around to the front of the car and drove away.

Didi looked old, tired. He didn’t say anything either, the whole drive to the manor. Didn’t smile, or react. Seemed to be on autopilot.

“So what happened, then?” Damian asked as they pulled into the driveway. Dick didn’t answer, opted to focus on turning off the car and getting Damian out of his seat. Damian stared up at him with wide eyes, even as he breathed, “Is it Stephie?”

Because that was still an open wound, for all of them.

“No, baby…” Dick mumbled as he pulled Damian from the car, and placed him gently on the ground. Slowly, he kneeled in front of him. “It’s just…something really terrible happened, okay?”

“To who?”

“To…well, to Timmy.” Dick admitted. “He’s okay, though. He’s not…he’s not _hurt_ , but.”

A sigh. Mournful.

(It reminded Damian of Baba’s sighs, when Didi was missing. He _hated_ it.)

“He’s just going to be very sad.” Dick finished. “Very, _very_ sad.”

“…Like Baba when you were gone?” Damian asked tentatively.

Dick allowed himself a smile, for a second. “Worse, probably.”

Damian twisted his lips, as Dick stood back up and took his hand. “Oh.”

They walked to the door, and Dick knocked on it gently. It opened almost immediately, and Alfred ushered them quickly inside.

“He’s not…” Alfred’s voice dropped. “He won’t speak to anyone. When we go to check on him, all he does is say ‘please go away.’”

“Okay.” Dick said grimly, dropping Damian’s hand. “Where’s Bruce? I should probably talk to him first, anyway.”

“The sitting room.” Alfred supplied. “Making the arrangements for…”

Another sigh. Another one like Baba’s.

Dick tried another smile, as he put a hand on Alfred’s shoulder, as he turned back to Damian. “Come on, baby. Let’s go see Bruce.”

“But…Timmy?”

The awkward smile waned. “He needs to be alone right now.”

Damian huffed, but trailed after Dick and Alfred anyway, knowing that just wasn’t true.

Regardless, he followed. Waved to Bruce when they entered the room. Dutifully kneeled in front of the coffee table when Alfred brought him his crayons. Colored for a while. Glanced up every so often to watch Didi and Bruce mutter quietly at the desk. Watched as Bruce would turn and look at him, every so often, exhale, then turn back to Dick.

Alfred came and went, and every couple minutes, Damian would ask, “Where’s Timmy?”

And every time, Alfred would just mumble, “Master Timothy wants to be alone right now.”

And Damian would pout. Scribble angrily across his pages.

Because Damian didn’t _want_ Timmy to be alone.

So it was when he knew all the adults were distracted, when Didi and Bruce were passing papers back and forth, and he could smell Alfred cooking in the kitchen. He gently put all of his crayons back in their box, stood up and walked away.

He knew where Tim’s room was, and the fastest route to it, from all the games of hide and seek they played when Alfred was allowed to babysit.

(It was never actually Alfred, always tended to be everyone else, Bruce especially. But that’s what Didi said. That’s what Didi told Baba. That’s what Didi made _Damian_ promise to tell Baba.)

So, quietly, he scurried up the stairs, careful to skip the one he knew groaned when it was stepped on. Paused at the top landing, just to make sure Didi and Bruce hadn’t noticed he’d gone. When he heard them still talking, something about flower arrangements, he smiled, and trotted triumphantly down the hall.

Tim’s door was closed. But that was fine, because Damian was finally tall enough to reach the handle without tiptoes, and finally strong enough to get the old thing to open without anyone’s help.

The room was dark, and for a second Damian thought Tim wasn’t there. But then he saw the lump on the bed move. Heard a deep inhale, and a shaky exhale.

“Timmy?”

The lump twitched, but didn’t move any more than that. It was confirmation enough, though. Damian slowly cracked the door behind him, and pattered over to the bed, climbing up onto it without asking.

Tim still didn’t look at him, but when Damian leaned around the lump – Tim’s back, he realized, his back and the blanket the elder was cocooned in – he spotted his face. Gray and pale and looking like the zombies from Baba’s movies. Eyes sunken and half-lidded, staring at nothing in front of them.

Damian looked at him for a moment, before turning back to his feet, dangling off the mattress. He kicked them a few times, patted his knees, then hummed.

“When I get sad, Didi tells me I should talk about it.” He tried. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Tim didn’t answer. Not for the whole five minutes Damian waited for one.

It was no problem, though. Damian carried on regardless.

“Are you still sad about Stephie?” Damian whispered. That got a jerk out of Tim, and Damian sensed him curling in tighter on himself. “Because I am. I draw her at school a lot, tell the teacher she’s an angel.”

Tim suddenly made a noise, but it wasn’t any words. It was…it was tears. Tim was _crying_.

“Didi said something really bad happened to you. Something even worse than when he went away for a long time.” Damian sighed. He twisted back around, watched Tim’s shoulders shake. “I’m really sorry, Timmy. I’m sorry you had something so bad happen to you, too.”

Tim just sobbed.

Damian waited a moment. Just watched Tim. He wondered, faintly, what had happened. Didi said it was worse than what happened to him, but what could be worse than losing your dad for a few months like he had? He guessed death. Dying, like Stephie, would be worse, but…

He supposed the reason didn’t matter.

Timmy was sad, that was reason enough.

Gently, Damian leaned back. “When Cassie was sad about Stephie, I held her hand. She seemed to like that.” He explained. “Do you want to hold my hand, too?”

Tim just blubbered.

“That’s okay.” Damian decided as he reached over Tim’s side and began patting at the blanket. After a few seconds, he felt the shape of a fist, wrapped tightly in the blanket, and clung to it. “I’ll just hold yours instead. If that’s okay.”

Tim moved this time, maybe to answer, but Damian never found out, because suddenly, the door burst open.

“Damian!” Dick near shouted. Damian spun around as his Didi rushed into the room. “Damian, sweetheart, I told you, Timmy wanted to be alone right now-”

He had reached down, put his hands under Damian’s armpits and shifted to pick him up when suddenly, Tim reacted. Spun around so fast, Dick almost dropped Damian in surprise.

 _“No!”_ Tim yelled. Screeched, really, as he surged upwards. _“Leave him!”_

Dick instantly released his son, and slowly held his hands up in surrender.

“…Leave him.” Tim repeated, instantly deflated, eyes drooping once more as he lowered himself back onto the pillow. “Please, he can…he can stay, Dick. He’s fine. He’s not…he’s not bothering me.”

“…Okay. Okay, Tim.” Dick whispered. Put a hand on Tim’s hair. “…Do you mind if I stay too?”

Tim’s lip quivered, but he shook his head. Dick smiled softly, nodded, and gently sat on the floor.

When he was settled, Tim’s eyes opened, just a little wider. Suddenly, the blanket was moving, and a few seconds later, a hand popped out near his face. He extended his arm the whole way out, flopped it down next to Damian’s leg.

“I do.” Tim croaked weakly. Dick’s smile saddened as he leaned his elbow against the mattress, and stroked gently at Tim’s hair. “I think I do want to hold your hand, Damian. If that’s still okay.”

“…Yup.” Damian whispered back with a grin. He placed his hand in Tim’s, let the elder’s fingers close around it and squeeze. Tenderly, Damian squeezed back. “It’s okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Other things for Nevolition’s Dad!Jason AU](http://fishfingersandjellybabies.tumblr.com/tagged/dad%21jason+au)   
> 


End file.
